


Where's Eric Dale?

by WillowFlickerman



Category: Margin Call (2011)
Genre: Double Life, F/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowFlickerman/pseuds/WillowFlickerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where is Eric Dale?" Sam Rogers asks.<br/>"We shut his phone off," comes Will Emerson's exasperated reply.<br/>"Course we did," Sam mutters.<br/>"Yeah. So I called his wife who says he's not home."<br/>"He's probably crying in some fucking beer somewhere."<br/>"Yeah, or worse."</p>
<p>But when Will and Seth Bregman find Eric the following morning, he isn't drunk or damaged in any way. So the question is, where did Eric Dale go after he lost his job?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's Eric Dale?

"Nineteen years... Nineteen fucking years..."

"I know."

"I worked my ass off for them!"

Livy didn't know what to say. There wasn't a lot she could say, in all honesty. Eric knew how ruthless they were. Talent, longevity, they meant nothing to the powers that were. He'd seen it often enough to know. He'd been told to forget enough people to know. He'd even sat and listened to she herself rant and rave when it had happened to her a few years back. And then he'd kissed her and reassured her she'd find something else to do with her life because she was too fucking good for them anyway. Neither of them had known at the time that she was already pregnant. So, yeah, she most certainly did find something else to do with her life. Her impending motherhood had pretty much curbed her extravagant lifestyle overnight, and she'd barely eaten into the hefty payout she'd received on her end-of-employment package. She had her house, her car, her foreign holiday every year and, above all, her two beautiful children to keep her occupied when Eric wasn't around. Which was often, because she was only one of two busy lives he kept.

"They're all a bunch of fucking cun-" He trailed off abruptly as the dark, reproachful eyes of their daughter appeared around the doorframe.

"Two dollars, please." Aubrey held out her hand, palm up, to receive the money she'd demanded of him. 

"Why two?"

"You said two bad words, so two dollars."

"No, I didn't. One, yeah, not two."

"Yes, you did, Daddy" she insisted firmly. "You said - "

Eric silently handed over two notes in the time it took her to take a breath in order to repeat the words he'd just said. She wasn't dumb, this girl of theirs. At six years old she'd seen his tendency to swear like a trooper as an opportunity to get herself the pony riding lessons she was desperate for with the least amount of work possible. She'd made him a swear jar, and charged him a dollar everytime he swore. Now, at almost seven, she still desired the lessons and he'd all but paid out enough money for a full term's membership to Stanhope Stables, the premiere equestrian school in New York City. Such was the price of a distasteful habit, he accepted.

Aubrey skipped off with a proud "Thankyou" to deposit her earnings into her jar, and to count it out yet again. Whilst it wasn't the case on this occasion - her father was very definitely angry right now - she wasn't entirely sure that he sometimes didn't swear on purpose to help her along a little bit.

"Can I get a drink?"

"Sure. What d'you want?"

"Something to take the edge off..."

She regarded him without speaking as she wandered over to the minibar that she had had installed just for him. Whisky, she thought. It was way too early for brandy, even though she knew it was his preferred tipple.

He watched her for a moment, and then his gaze drifted off to stare out of the window. _Would this be it?_ He wondered, with another sideways glance at her. _Would they be over after today? She'd always said she'd love him even if he didn't have a penny in the world, and whilst that wasn't strictly what was going to happen, a lot would have to change now. His package was good, but it wouldn't support two families for very long..._

"Here." She'd moved so quietly he hadn't even noticed that she was back beside him on the couch, holding out a healthy-sized shot of whisky in a heavy-bottomed tumbler.

"Thanks."

"Have you been home yet?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" he asked wryly, knocking back the alcohol so it burned his throat.

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "I just wondered if you'd told Stella yet."

He shook his head, sighing wearily. "I came straight here."

No, he certainly didn't feel the need to impart the news to his wife anytime soon. She wouldn't understand in the same way Livy did. Stella would immediately assume he hadn't been working hard enough or doing his job well enough. That it was his fault. Not the result of a ruthless human resources department.

Not that that was the reason he'd come here rather than going home. He shared most things with Livy before he told Stella. Because she was the one he wanted to share everything with. A fact they all knew and largely ignored. Especially Stella. At home, Livy's existence wasn't acknowledged at all, at least not since that entire weekend of vicious, spiteful arguments when he'd finally blurted everything out. And that was fine by him. It meant his three eldest daughters had no chance of happening upon an indiscreet conversation between himself and their mother over his infidelity. For they were the reason he remained married to Stella. The day Tiffany, their youngest, went off to college, that was the last day he would spend at home. Something else they all knew and rarely of. He hoped that would still be the case where Livy was concerned.

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I dunno. I guess I can either try and find something else, or enjoy my retirement... It's just, this thing I was working on - it had the potential to be huge..."

"You think Peter'll figure it out for you?"

"Ah, I dunno," he shrugged. "Probably. He's a bright kid. I told him to be careful with it. Not much more I can do really."

"I guess not. The figures weren't good though?"

"No."

They sat in silence for several minutes before Livy said, "So, what do you wanna do now? Do you want to retire?"

"Do you know what I wanna do, right now? I just wanna sit here, with you, and forget the lot of them." And with that, he gently pulled her backwards so she was leaning into him, and she automatically drew her legs up under her and hooked an arm around his middle, nestling her face against his chest. He pressed a kiss onto her forehead, his beard catching in the front whisps of her hair, and he stroked the loose blonde strands away from her face tenderly.

" _We're_  okay, aren't we?" she whispered haltingly into his shirt. "You're not going to leave me?"

He looked down at her incredulously. She was worried about _him_  leaving _her_?

"Livy, if anyone has the right to go anywhere, it's you. I'm not exactly a great catch without a job."

"I'm not going anywhere, Eric."

He kissed her head again, longer and firmer this time. "Me either."

He felt her smile against his chest, and as she shuffled herself a little closer to him, that walk of shame off of floor 42 suddenly didn't seem as awful as it had done thirty minutes ago.

"I've gotta take the kids to school," she murmured. "You'll stay here?"

"Sure," he nodded. "Bring back something good for breakfast, huh?"

"Okay," she agreed. "Aubrey! Olly! Time to go, guys."

Footsteps pounded overhead and moments later, Eric was crushed under the weight of his two youngest children as they raced to kiss him goodbye, leaping on him as one.

"Will you be here later, Dad?" Oliver asked quickly as Livy began to usher them towards the door.

"Yeah, I'll still be here." Oliver grinned and let himself be rushed out of the house and into the car.

 

It was the first full day Livy and Eric had spent together since they couldn't remember when. Ordinarily their meetings took place over long lunch breaks, or hurried visits after he'd finished work if he could get out of the morale-boosting drinking sessions Will Emerson insisted on, or even on weekend days when he told everybody at home that he was going golfing. He very much hoped neither Stella, who was more than aware of where he was really going, or any of their daughters ever challenged him to a round, because in reality, Eric couldn't play golf to save his life.

He talked to Livy whilst she cooked, and they ate breakfast together, a very leisurely meal in the warmth of the mid-morning sun on the small terrace that overlooked the rear garden. And when they'd had their fill and were relaxed, she smiled at him in that way he'd never been able to resist, and they spent the remainder of the day in bed, only finally disturbing themselves when it was time for Livy to go and collect Aubrey and Olly from school.

Eric helped them with their homework upon their return, and he wondered again if he really needed to wait until Tiffany started college to leave Stella. He was happy here. He'd always been more happy here than anywhere else, and he told Livy that as they settled down into bed that night.

"You've gotta go home sometime, Eric. Even if it's just to let them know you're okay." Always the voice of reason, his Livy.

"I know."

"A year," she reminded him softly, wriggling closer to him.

As though he needed reminding, Eric thought. He'd been tempted to outline the date on his fucking calendar, but he'd resisted up to now. Things were different though, now, weren't they?

It was still early when Livy kissed Eric goodbye. He was heading home. Finally ready to talk to Stella. But he'd done the one thing he'd never done before. He'd left his things. After whatever was going to happen had happened, he was coming back here, and he was gonna stay.


End file.
